Seeing him like this erases the worst of the day. I am not simply Vladislav Zima’s son.
“I’m getting rope,” I say. “Stay there.”
I wait for Micah to nod before I go to the walk-in closet and find the soft bondage rope I’d bought at Club Alpha. Silvano had approved of it, saying it was a good choice for a beginner.
I want to laugh at that idea. I have tied up enough men that I don’t really count as a beginner.
This will be the first time I’m not going to hurt somebody with the rope, though.
I take my sweater, shirt, and socks off while I’m here, then head back out to Micah.
His eyes are on me immediately.
I hold up the rope. “I will tie you to bed. To the bed.”
Micah nods again, and he scoots up so he’s closer to the bedposts. “Here?” he asks.
“Yes.” I get closer and take hold of one wrist. I press a kiss to it first, feeling Micah shiver, before I begin wrapping the rope around it.
I make sure to tie a knot on the loop so it can’t tighten if Micah begins to struggle.
That’s not something I usually worry about when I’m dealing with tied up men.
Micah isn’t other men, though. He’s soft and kind… and he trusts me.
I won’t do anything to make him regret that.
He rests back, his body relaxed, and he offers me a small smile when I catch his gaze. “It’s all good,” he reassures me.
I wind the rope around the bedpost a few times, then thread it over to Micah’s other hand. I kiss this wrist too, and take just as much care as I bind him.
This isn’t the elaborate rope play I’ve seen in internet porn, or even on display at Club Alpha. But it’s Micah, and he looks beautiful like this.
His breathing is quick, but there’s no fear or panic in his expression. His cock is half-erect already, and I have the urge to take it into my hand.
Or my mouth.
I lean down to kiss him. I keep my eyes open, and this close, I can see every lash, every little fleck of gold in his deep green eyes.
“You truly are not afraid,” I murmur.
Micah shakes his head. “Not at all,” he says without hesitation.
I kiss him again, then reach over to my nightstand to take my sleeping mask. Micah looks at me curiously, and I smile at him. “A blindfold. But you can easily remove it if you shake your head.”
“Okay.” He lifts his head so I can put the mask on him, then rests his head back against the pillows again.
What a sight.
I kiss his jaw and begin nosing my way down his body. I’m going to take my time with him. I’m going to make him feel good. I’m going to give him pleasure, not pain, and my hands will for one night be free of my family legacy.
He lets out a soft sigh, tilting his head back, as I kiss along his skin. For the most part, it’s flawless, but there’s the occasional scar marring it. Cigarette burns, mostly, and my blood boils at the idea that someone might’ve harmed him that way.
It says something that I recognize the mark, too.
I find a more benign mark, a simple mole on the side of his hip, and I lick it. Micah moans and lifts his hips.
His cock is erect now, jutting up and begging for attention.
